Memories Don't Have to Hurt
by Wildestdreams1972
Summary: It's June 28th, a year after Matt's death. A one shot featuring Sam and Zion.


June 28th came, creeping upon the two former soldiers. Though they'd built a new life, formed new bonds and found a new family, the wound still throbbed, forever aching. Both carried the guilt, the guilt of not preventing the inevitable.

Neither could forget. It echoed inside their heads the moment they awakened, throats clogged with the taste of sand and the sound of screams ringing in their ears. Mechanically, they performed their morning routines, caught in the throes of memories that had come back with a vengeance.

An unspoken agreement laid between them, Sam and Zion. They wouldn't speak to each other at all that day, unless work-related reasons dictated otherwise. Though she'd never admit it, a portion of Zion-a dark, hateful portion-blamed Sam for Matt's death, though it'd been an accident. Being forced to interact with him on a personal level was too great a task, at least on June 28th.

The team noticed; of course they did. Each member observed the two soldiers, and saw the obvious hurt that lingered in their eyes. Sam carried himself stiffly, standing at attention, and refusing to relax.

Zion grew uneasy, eyes scanning the streets for hostiles and the roofs for snipers. That rigid formality in their speech that they'd both abandoned returned with a vengeance; more so for Sam than for Zion.

Maybe fate had finally smiled on the rag-tag group labeled as "Team One" because June 28th proved to be the slowest day on record. Midway through the day, Greg met with Sam and Zion in the briefing room.

"How's inventory going?" He inquired.

"Inventory's going well Sir," Zion responded, standing at parade rest.

"Glad to hear it," Greg told the duo. "And how are you two doing? I know today can't be easy," he sympathized.

Sam answered, "We're doing well Sir. We appreciate the concern."

Greg nodded and dismissed the two, not believing the statement uttered.

Finally, finally, the end of the day came. Each member of Team One felt relieved; tedious days with little action dragged on them. Wordy suggested meeting at the Goose, and the suggestion was well-received.

Sam and Zion left first, military habits of showering and dressing rapidly in full force. The rest of the team trickled out after that, in pairs and alone. Ed and Greg lingered behind, discussing in low voices how to help them.

"I'm sure it's just the anniversary," Ed insisted. "They'll probably be fine tomorrow."

"And if they're not? What then?" Greg questioned.

"Then, we support them. We help them get through it."

The Goose had begun to fill up, but not enough to impede personal space. Sam and Zion had snagged a table at the back, with a clear vantage point of the entire bar and open paths to the exits.

Oh yes the military training is out in full force today, Wordy thought as he approached the table. They hadn't chosen that particular table in a while. He prayed that once the day was over, they'd relax some.

An unspoken tradition on the nights they went out was that no one ordered until everyone'd arrived. Twenty minutes after Sam and Zion had come, the table was full of beloved teammates.

A waitress came over and took their order. Eyebrows were raised in surprise when Sam and Zion both ordered fireball whiskey, and a shot of tequila besides. It simply wasn't like them to hit the hard stuff.

Eyebrows nearly went into the stratosphere when they each ordered a Jack and Coke, and a vodka on the rocks with a slice of lime on the side.

It was clear to anyone who observed that the two soldiers intended to get _real_ messed up, _real_ _quick_.

Ed glanced at Greg, and Greg sent him a nod. Wordlessly, they agreed to cut the two off now, _before_ they got alcohol poisoning.

Zion, unexpectedly, became slightly teary-eyed. When the others looked at her in shock, she simply shrugged thin shoulders.

"I just really miss Matt," she stated. Sam nodded.

"I do too," he spoke quietly.

"I wish y'all would've gotten the chance to meet him," she told the group. "Y'all would've loved him. He was a great guy."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"Hey, do you remember the time that Matt jumped from the truck to jump on the dummy IED?" He asked Zion. Zion giggled slightly and bobbed her head yes.

"Who could forget?"

Sam turned to the group at large.

"It was one of our first weeks there, in Kandahar. We were on patrol, and Matt spotted a shiny wire, glinting in the sun. All of a sudden he leaps from the moving truck onto this IED. Luckily it was just a test set up by our unit captain to test our observational skills."

They all laughed at that.

"Sounds like something you'd do, Sammy Boy," Ed commented. Sam merely shrugged in response.

"Matt wouldn't have blamed us," Zion spoke directly to Sam.

"We'll never know," he told her.

"No. Matt would've understood, I think. You were given bad orders, that's all."

Sam refused to accept the truth in her words; she didn't push the issue.

Hours passed with Sam and Zion regaling the team with funny-and sad- Matt stories. Tears and laughs flowed as plentifully as the alcohol, though Sam and Zion were cut off, and forced to switch to water.

Wordy took Zion home, while Ed handled Sam.

"Tonight was good. Maybe, remembering Matt in a positive light will help erase some of the guilt he carries," Zion murmured. Wordy prayed that that particular burden would lighten.

*In Ed's car*

"I was glad to see Zion laughing tonight. It was good for her I think," Sam remarked. Ed agreed.

"She worries a lot, especially about me. I like seeing her relax and let go," Sam muttered lowly.

The next day, everything was almost back to normal. To anyone who knew them, Sam and Zion were a little bit happier, a little freer, a little lighter. A happy ending to a year of guilt, sadness, and pain.

A/N: My first one-shot! Thank you for reading, and please review and favorite! For more Sam and Zion, check out my story _Evading the Truth_!


End file.
